


And Then Things Changed

by howthemoonsuitsthenightsky



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7229545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howthemoonsuitsthenightsky/pseuds/howthemoonsuitsthenightsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then something happened between year nine and ten. We were enemies and then we weren't anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then Things Changed

When Michael receives a text from Jay, his heart can't help but leap a little. He takes a couple of minutes to ponder over his response, trying to think of a sentence that will make him seem just uninterested enough to be 'cool'. He quickly puts his phone on sleep mode as soon as the message has been sent and throws it down onto the duvet beside him.  
Not wanting to wait agonisingly for the reply, he leaves his room with the glasses his mum has been nagging him to put in the dishwasher for days. He takes a lot of time putting them in, making sure that they are lined up perfectly on the white pieces of plastic and when he has spent a sufficient amount of time making sure they are all angled so the print on the bases faces the same way, he lets himself go back up to his room.  
He finds one message waiting for him, from Jay. He has finally done it. Michael, the outcast, well, besides his one friend, has made it to a gathering at the park with Jay.  
***  
Michael makes sure that he is exactly ten minutes late to meet Jay at the park, though, whilst he might never admit it, is nervous that if he doesn't arrive at least ten minutes before the meeting time, Jay and his friends will have moved on to another location without him. He has on his best T-shirt, though has spent at least five minutes in front of the mirror rumpling it as if he doesn't care that it cost him thirty dollars and has stashed in his backpack three cans of cider, leftovers from Christmas, and a condom, because when he googled these type of events that afternoon, it was what had been suggested.  
He tries to saunter into the park, but ends up tripping over a small pothole in the pavement. Luckily, the group of people, spread over swings, slides, benches and roundabouts, are too absorbed in their conversations to notice.  
He swings open the small, red gate and makes his way, carefully, onto the wood-chipped play area. He scans the park for Jay, but before he can find him, his eyes come to rest on a pair they purposely haven't sought out in a long while.  
They pick him out in return, sky blue staring accusingly in his direction. Luke Hemmings, ex-crush turned enemy. He supposes it is fitting that the one guy who has the ability to ruin his night has the audacity to be here.  
Michael moves his gaze on until he finds Jay, laying back on a yellow slide, his feet brushing the soft tarmac at the base. He is surrounded by a few of his friends, all lounging similarly nearby, dressed up in the same way, all blue jeans and faded tops. Michael can't help but be reminded of the pictures of kings and queens in his history textbooks, surrounded by their lords and ladies, who then happen to be interrupted by a lowly peasant.  
"Mike," Jay greets, raising his hand a couple of centimetres before letting it drop back to his stomach. Michael inwardly cringes at the nickname. Mikey, he can deal with, and even enjoy sometimes, but Mike. It reminds him to much of a cross between the green guy from Monsters Inc. and a heavy metal fan with a rainbow coloured Mohawk with piercings in places he would rather not think about.  
"Jay," he nods, raising the left corner of his mouth in a small smile, making sure it isn't large enough to make Jay thinks he cares too much about his opinion. Jay reaches down and garbs a unopened green can from the base of the slide. Michael takes it, cleanly opening it with a satisfying clink. He takes a long sip and has to resist the urge to spit it out over the people he so desperately wants to be friends with.  
***  
It takes an hour for Michael and Luke to cross paths again. Michael is trying, and failing, to walk straight, so is concentrating more on his feet than where they are taking him and before he knows it, he is staring at a pair of scuffed white trainers. He follows the lanky legs producing from them up, over a deep burgundy top, right into the unfairly blue eyes of the guy he hoped he could avoid for the rest of the night.  
Luke stands leaning against the railing that surrounds the play area, both hands thrust in the pockets of his jeans. He raises his eyebrows at Michael, making him want to look back at the set of trainers, or anywhere else than the face in front of him. "You alright?" Luke's tone is slightly more venomous than concerned, but Michael can't tell the difference.  
"I think I am," he replies, taking time over each word. "If I'm being honest," he leans closer, so that Luke can feel his breath hot against his neck, "I'm only doing this so that Jay will like me." He pauses. "And this is only my second time drinking and that was only one glass of champagne, so I'm not really sure what's okay." He leans back and looks down at the can in his hand, before deciding against it.  
"The words 'pissed' and 'lightweight' come to mind," Luke says, rolling his eyes. He glances over at Jay, seeing him chatting to a couple of girls in crop tops, arm slung casually around one's shoulders. If he's being as honest as Michael, he hates that guy, and he wouldn't have come, if it hadn't been for a promise of a distraction from a seemingly endless summer.  
"Yeah, you're probably right." Michael is speaking as if Luke is a figment of his imagination rather than the person he declared as his enemy just over six months ago. "It feels nice though, sort of warm. Here."  
Luke is not prepared for Michael to reach out and touch the base of his stomach, but once the feeling is there, a part of him doesn't want it to go away. The heat from Michael's soft palm spreads out through him and he has to fight down a blush. "Uh," Luke begins to say, but is cut off as the source of heat is removed.  
"Anyway, I should probably go over there." Michael waves his hand vaguely in the direction of a couple of guys sitting on the roundabout. Luke can only nod as he walks, somewhat diagonally, away.  
***  
If Michael squints, he can just about make out the stars. A couple of small, twinkling lights stare down at him, until one of them flashes red and he realises that they might be planes instead.  
Suddenly, his view is cut off by Luke's face appearing above him. "They were only planes," he tells Luke, his voice coming out clearer than he had expected, though by Luke's look of confusion, his words weren't clear enough.  
"You should probably get home." Luke's voice has gained an edge of softness, though by his attitude, it appears to Michael that he is only telling him out of necessity rather than want.  
"What time is it?" he asks as he turns his head to the side. He barely noticed the sky darken in the first place, just, as it seems, he didn't notice half the people who had come to the gathering leave, including Jay. He curses himself for not talking to him more and showing just that little bit more interest that would gain him access to his friendship circle.  
Luke turns over his left wrist to check the time. "Just gone midnight."  
"Shit." Michael sits up with a start, bringing a wave of dizziness over him that is only made worse by the small thunk that tells him that his and Luke's foreheads have collided. He has to hold onto the supports on the roundabout to prevent him from falling back onto the rapidly cooling metal.  
"Oww," Luke says as he stumbles backwards, bringing up a hand to his forehead. "Really, Michael? I try to help you out and this is how you pay me back. Fuck." He stands up straight and blinks a couple of times.  
"Just fulfilling my role as 'the enemy' I suppose," Michael returns as he scoots himself forward to the edge of the roundabout, making it spin a little anti-clockwise as he does so.  
Before he can plant his feet on the ground, Luke grabs one of the poles and spins it back round so that his face is looming over the small, fringe-filled face in front of him. "Are we still enemies?" He asks it, not really knowing the answer.  
Michael gazes up at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"  
"I mean," Luke purposely takes a step back so that he can concentrate on something else than the bright, green eyes that have the annoying tendency to stare back, "do we still hate each other? I can't even remember what started this stupid thing in the first place-"  
"You stole my pencil case and when you finally gave it back, my favourite rubber was gone," Michael interrupts, only gaining him a glare from the younger boy.  
"Fine. We fell out over something stupid," Michael raises his eyebrows as if he's about to disrupt Luke's flow again, so he talks faster to make sure he can't, "and that's no reason for us to hate each other now. I mean, I don't really think you're that bad, Mikey, and maybe it would be better for us to get over ourselves and stop being enemies." He takes a deep breath, taking back in what he just gave out to Michael and looks down to find an expression he can't read.  
Michael has changed his mind. Though a couple of hours ago, he didn't think much of 'Mikey', now he could gladly listen to it for hours on end. The rational part of his brain screams at him to stop thinking about Luke in that way, reminding him how stupidly he used to act around him and how well it turned out, but Michael turns down the volume.  
He gets up, standing so that he is the same height as his now ex-enemy and smiles, before turning to find his backpack. Luke waits expectantly for a second for Michael to turn back around, but when he realises that Michael has just walked off, he can't help but stare dumbfounded.  
Michael spots his rucksack and reaches down to pick it up, fingers snagging the top handle. He swings one arm through a loop and heads towards the gate to find his bike.  
"This better only be how you act when you've had a bit too much to drink, Michael, or I swear I will happily go back to this enemy thing," Luke mumbles as he makes his way over to Michael's swaying form. He comes to stand in front of the older boy. "So," he says.  
"So," Michael replies in a wistful manner, before looking at look with a definite look of confusion crossing his features.  
"So, are we still enemies or friends or what?" Luke asks harshly.  
"I would like to be friends with you, Luke, but right now I have to find my bike so I can get home. You know school starts back in two days, right? Mum's been saying I need to get my sleeping schedule sorted by then."  
"Friends then," Luke says, letting a small smile creep into the corners of his mouth.  
"That is what I just said." Michael rolls his eyes and Luke has to resist the urge to throttle him, though given the outcomes with his older brothers, he's not sure that that's the best idea, at least, that's what he tells himself is the reason for not punching Michael.  
Michael saunters past him as he is making that decision, stumbling as he does so. Luke reaches out and the boy, who is surprisingly heavy, collapses into him.  
"First duty as friend," Luke whispers to no one in particular as he shifts Michael's weight so that he is slumped against his shoulder. "Walk said friend home so that he still has said friend by the end of the night."


End file.
